


Sacrifice

by eerian_sadow



Series: Sparkeaters and Other Walking Dead [14]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, No happy ending here, Serious Injuries, Sparkeaters, seriously the kind that would have killed a normal mech, soul vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27593866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: During combat, a daring rescue goes very wrong.
Series: Sparkeaters and Other Walking Dead [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/18217
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunnySidesofBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnySidesofBlue/gifts).



“Frag!” Bluestreak’s usually combat-cool voice raised in frustration was more than enough to draw Jazz’s attention to the roof where the mech had set up his rifle. He took in the sharpshooter’s sparking weapon and the incoming Decepticon flyer in a single klik and he began running before the thought finished processing. 

His magnets were gripping onto the building so that he could climb up to the other mech’s position as he heard the rapport of a smaller caliber rifle and distant swearing as Bluestreak’s shots still found their mark--though there was no way they would be doing disabling amounts of damage. He flung himself over the edge of the roof as he heard the distinctive whine of a missile being fired toward them. 

“Hang on, Blue!” He dove at the other mech, not giving Bluestreak time to react as his arms wrapped around him and they fell over the side of the building.

To his credit, Bluestreak shrieked, but he also kept his rifle aimed mostly at the incoming Seeker and kept firing until the missile hit the building and the blast wave knocked the weapon out of his hand. 

Jazz used his magnets to pull them as far from the heat and the falling building as possible, but his back was still singed as they hit the ground. “Ow.”

“You’re telling me.” Bluestreak sat up and craned his head around, trying to see the damage to his own back. “I think part of my wing is in the street.”

“Better than all of you in the building.”

“Yeah.” Bluestreak gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, Jazz.”

He almost missed the creaking of the road as the Seeker came around for another pass and launched a second missile. The ground opened under them, too stressed from the fighting and the falling building, and they slid into the darkness of the under level before the weapon could hit. 

-_-_-_-

He hadn’t lost consciousness in the darkness, though Jazz certainly wished he had. The amount of damaged he had taken in the fall would have killed a normal mech, though he had managed to manipulate Bluestreak’s body so that the other mech only took a single blow to the head, and he couldn’t use either of his legs. He was fairly certain that the lubricants that Ratchet had _just_ done a flush and fill for that morning were also all over the ground, and he was definitely dripping hydraulic fluid at a steady pace.

Being unconscious to miss the pain sounded divine.

“Jazz?” Bluestreak groaned as he moved. “Oh, my head.”

“Sorry about that, Blue.” His voice was incredibly weak, on top of everything else. Somewhere, he was losing power, too. “Even I couldn’t see whatever you hit your head on, so I couldn’t move you.” 

“It’s okay. You did your best.” The other mech fell silent for a moment. “My lights still work, want me to turn them on?”

“Probably ought to, so I can see how bad you’re hurt.” 

“Okay.” A klik later, Bluestreak’s headlights flickered on. The light was blinding for a moment as his visor adjusted, then he was looking up into the other mech’s worried face. “Oh, Jazz. I don’t think I’m the one we need to worry about.”

Slowly, Jazz looked down at himself. His legs were twisted and mangled, though he didn’t remember hitting anything hard enough to do that much damage, and his fluids were _definitely_ covering the floor of their cavern. And his hand--his right hand, frag, his weapon hand--was laying in the pool. “Huh. Wondered why I was getting that error message.”

“That's not funny, Jazz.”

“Wasn’t supposed to be.” He lowered his head back to the floor. “But it’s not like any of this is going to kill me. Just hurts like the pit.”

“Oh. Right.” Bluestreak glanced down at the ground. “I forgot about that.”

“Kinda glad to hear that, you know.” He gave the other mech a strained smile. 

“So, what do we do now?” Bluestreak turned away from him to look around the cavern that the sink hole had created. 

“We wait. Optimus won’t leave us behind and Hot Spot and the rest of his team weren’t too far away.”

“Okay.” Bluestreak sighed and made his way over to Jazz’s side. He sat down, careful not to touch him as he settled, which Jazz appreciated. Having any of his combat reflexes going off right now would not be pleasant. “What do we do if they don’t come?”

“Give ‘em a day. If they ain’t here by then, you climb out and come back for me later.”

“Jazz, I can’t even see light up there. I think we’re too far down to climb.”

Silently, Jazz had to agree. They probably were too far down for Blue to climb, because he couldn’t see any light either. “Then we’ll figure it out in a day.”

“Right.” Bluestreak leaned back against a piece of debris and shuttered his optics. “Tomorrow.”

-_-_-_-

“Jazz, it’s been thirty joors. I don’t think they’re coming.”

“Prime won’t leave us down here.”

“My distress beacon just keeps bouncing off the walls.” 

“I know.” His was doing the same thing, though he had been sending a weak signal until something else above them fell over. 

“And I don’t have any rations.”

“I’ve got a couple. Keep ‘em stashed for Bee. you need one?”

“Not yet.” Bluestreak sighed. “What about for you? It’s not like you’ve got a portable spark generator or anything.”

“Not for lack of trying.” Jazz smiled ruefully. Perceptor had been working on creating something that would mimic spark energy well enough for them to feed on for a couple of years now. He wasn’t much closer to success than when he had started, but they had come up with a couple of new power generators for the city. 

“That…” Blue stood up and stepped away from him. His feet made little sucking sounds in the drying fluids as he started pacing. “That really scares me, you know? What happens if we’re still down here when you _have_ to feed, Jazz? There’s nowhere to run!”

“You’ve got the advantage of being able to climb, Blue.” Jazz waved his arm. “Only got one arm right now, and if I’m starving, I won’t have the processor power to use my magnets.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

Jazz knew that he wasn’t, because his magnets took far more precision than he would be capable of if he was in a frenzy, but he also knew how to reassure the sharpshooter. He reached into his subspace and pulled out the high powered pistol he kept there. “You take this and you shoot me through the spark if it gets to that.”

“What?” Bluestreak stared at him. 

Jazz held the pistol out toward him. “Ironhide built this thing specifically to smelt a spark casing when we were out hunting, so that we didn’t have to keep dragging them back to the base to smelt them. If I’m in a feeding frenzy, i want you to shoot me with it. I’d rather be dead than take your spark.”

Hesitantly, Bluestreak stepped close enough to take the weapon. “I don’t want to kill you.”

“I know, Blue. But if its you or me, don’t hesitate. Bee’ll understand.” 

Bluestreak nodded slowly. Then he sat back down a few feet away, perched on a piece of debris and pistol still in hand. 

Jazz couldn’t help feeling proud of him.


End file.
